


To Say Goodbye

by Rahven



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, M/M, This hurt my heart, coping poorly because he's a mess, coping with loss, this is just a whole bunch of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 14:08:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21209819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahven/pseuds/Rahven
Summary: Was this truly the fate he had to look forward to? To lose everyone that he dared to care for in his life? What good was being hailed as a hero if he couldn't even save the ones he loved the most?





	To Say Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> This is a thought I had after completing the Crystal Tower story line and how my poor boy would be feeling. I never wrote it out. But all things considered, now seemed to be the time to finally put thoughts to word. So, a short drabble about his train wreck of emotions it is. I hurt myself writing this hahaha.... :') Ryu'a has been through a lot. He's tired.
> 
> Some of these scenes were inspired by talking to a friend that I write with. We bounced ideas off each other and it really filled in the gaps of the emotional stress. So thank you, my friend. I hope you read this and enjoy it.
> 
> Please be gentle, I've never posted my writing publicly before.

A raucous song spilled from his lips as he stumbled down the familiar path, words slurring together while still managing to remain on key. Stray lightning sprites floated past without giving him a bother, even the more aggressive beasts of the area not bothering to halt his course. Even in the darkness, light shone around him in a cold haze, crystal protruding from almost every surface, spilling it’s aetheric glow all around him. High above, the immense tower it all seemed to extend from bathed even more light upon him, allowing the Miqo'te to see as easily as if he were under the light of the sun.

Even louder did he sing as he staggered closer, only pausing to tip a half empty bottle to his lips and take another hard swallow of burning liquid. A laugh quickly followed before his melody began again. The closer he got to the tower, the louder he seemed to managed to sing.

The Crystal Tower.

How long had he spent beneath it’s glow? How many times had he set foot within its walls and raised bow and blade to carve a path to discover secrets he didn’t understand? 

History was something he had never much paid attention to. Not while growing up and still not after being dragged into being the Warrior of Light. There was too much else to worry about, never mind the fact he couldn’t really read. But as was to be expected, with a grand title came constant calls, ever in need of someone who seemed immune to death’s embrace. This had been no different.

From the moment he had arrived he had wanted to leave, so out of touch with what everyone was talking about that it almost made him feel uneasy. Even with his abilities and power behind him, it never felt like he belonged. Who could possibly relate to him in a place like this?

Staggered, drunken steps finally came to a halt, no more path left to be walked. He sang out ever louder, his voice echoing within the dimly lit crystal walls as his tail swayed behind him. Before him, a door stood closed, unyielding in its presence. It had been months since he had stood in this very spot.

To think, that among those with knowledge he would never grasp, he could find someone that understood. Someone who knew what it meant to be an outcast and how it felt to try and prove yourself in a world that barely spared a second glance. His enthusiasm had been hard to resist and suddenly he had been the one asking questions, interested in a thing he had previously cared nothing for. Ryu'a certainly was no historian and may as well have been a nobody to them. Sure, he had garnered himself a fancy title, but all that got him was more work, more danger. It didn’t mean anyone understood. It just meant they wanted help. No one should look up to him. He never wanted the responsibility, but really he had been given no choice. But _he _had never used him for his title. In fact, it hadn't been uncommon for him to challenge him and Ryu'a relished every bit of it. Finally, someone who had seen him for _himself._

Eventually his song grew quieter, dying off as his expression shifted. It was as if he was waiting for something, staring at the door that would no longer open. Then he frowned. “It’s your turn,” he slurred, as if talking to someone. “You’re supposed to sing. It’s a duet.” Though for as much as he sounded like he was talking to another person, the only sound he heard was his own voice echoing back at him and the dull hum of the aetheric energy. 

Only in his own memory did he hear his voice, sitting together as the sun’s glow faded beyond the horizon, the blazing warmth of a fire crackling before them. He had actually been happy, if only for what felt like a fleeting moment. 

A shiver raced through him. It was cold within the crystal walls, their icy glow only seeming to make things worse. He wasn’t dressed to be there. His usual coat was missing and above all, he was barefoot. 

Another memory struck him, a feeling of intense heat, breath mingling into one another’s as soft gasps and pants carried the wanton noises of their moment of weakness. Dusty tomes and books were the bed upon which scattered clothing had lain carelessly strewn about, the tent they shared lit only by the cold glow of the tower. Tails twined, emotions at their breaking point as raw desire fueled their actions.

“Raha, you have to sing with me. I can’t sing this song alone and you know it.”

Silence wrapped around him as the echo of his own voice faded, eyes staring up at the massive door before him. Nothing stirred. But what was it he had been expecting? Maybe, more than anything, he was he hoping those doors would open and he would be greeted once more by his cocky smiling face, some quip about disturbing his nap on his lips. If only life could be that kind to him, just this once. 

“STOP IGNORING ME!”

His sudden shout rang in his ears, his fist lashing out and slamming against the solid and impenetrable door. The bottle he had been carrying fell from his other hand, shattering upon the ground. He felt one of his knuckles crack, likely breaking under the extreme force he lashed out with. But that pain didn’t even begin to compare to the constricting in his chest. Suddenly, it felt as if he couldn’t breathe, his own emotions rising up and threatening to smother him.

It was infuriating how positive everyone seemed to be about the whole situation. He had argued with anyone who would listen, tried desperately to find a way to wake him, a difficult task when he barely knew how to read. He owed what little he could do to the very person he struggled to get back. He had been a fool for not saying anything to stop him. Though it likely would have done no good. He had been set in his course, much like he seemed to be forced down the path of being the vaunted “Warrior of Light”. He hated it. Why, why, WHY?!

Slowly, he sank to his knees, ears flattening to his head, tears streaking his face as painful sobs shook his body. Only when he was alone did his real emotions show. He had tried desperately to stay collected, tried so hard to find the bright side everyone seemed to see. After all, the Warrior of Light couldn’t show weakness. He had to be strong, the icon everyone saw as some kind of symbol of hope. But just how he was supposed to be the light of hope was lost to him, especially while he himself felt so hopeless. Did he have to lose everything and everyone he cared about? Was that truly his fate?

“I never--” he hiccuped, burying his face in the crook of his arm, “I never even got to say goodbye…”

And even as it felt like the hole in his chest tore ever wider, he received no response, no flicker of life, only the sound of his own pitiful sobs echoing back. Ryu’a rarely ever cried, so each sob felt like a stab to his chest. Eventually those died down, his hands falling limp at his side, his right hand now painfully throbbing and shifting to a deep shade of purple. All energy now drained from him, his forehead came to rest against the door in front of him. It was just as cold at the light that now seemed to mockingly shine upon him. He sat like this for what felt like hours, until his legs were cold and numb.

Finally, when the haze of the liquor he had consumed that evening began to fade, he struggled to his feet. It wasn’t just his legs that felt numb. His entire body felt heavy, devoid of any life. Even his eyes seemed to lack their usual shine. For a few moments longer, he stood there, then reached a hand out to touch the door. Head hung low, ears down and tail limp, he set his forehead to the door one more time. 

“Goodbye, Raha…”

When his head finally lifted again, his eyes were cold, ears perked once more. He couldn’t take it anymore. If being the Warrior of Light meant losing those you loved, then he wouldn’t let anyone else in. No longer would he let his heart be swallowed by such emotions. The pain was something he would rather live without. If this was what love felt like, he didn’t want it. 

Finally he turned, his fingers lingering on the door for only a moment longer before they returned to his side. Just like that very door, he would keep his heart shut, no one new allowed to step beyond. If he was fated to suffer loss, at least it wouldn’t hurt as bad. Gods he hoped it wouldn’t hurt anymore.

As he stepped outside into the dull light of the coming dawn, he looked to the sky. ‘_ Everyone leaves eventually.’ _If that was his fate, so be it. 

He wouldn’t break again.


End file.
